Make It Stop
by The Lilac Pilgrim
Summary: Some people take drugs so they can achieve this sort of nightmarish vision. The Ice King just wants it all to stop. Short oneshot.


**Author's Note:** I am so sorry for this story. It wouldn't leave my head and so I had to write it. Words cannot express how sorry I am that this had to see the light of day. But I'm sort of hoping that some of you will actually enjoy it, even if it was sort of rushed and clichéd. At least it's short? To make up for this thing, I will try working on one of my better stories. K? K.

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><p><em>Crazy, crazy, crazy; in your face all the time... all the time.<em>

Tonight was one of those nights.

An old familiar black snake creature swirled around his vision in a figure-of-eight; a giant robin blew smoke from a hole in its neck. _Crazy, crazy, crazy._ Sometimes, the old wizard didn't know if his thoughts described the creatures or if they described himself. Every now and then, someone whispered a long-forgotten name. A name so well-discarded by the Ice King that he only vaguely recognised that the voice wanted _him_. A name that was by now so mangled in his mixed-up head that he couldn't hear it as a name, but as a sound with painful memories attached.

It just wouldn't stop calling.

He tried to do other things to block it out, of course. His computer was always at the ready so that he could play video games and just relax. Music was therapeutic and seemed to keep the visions away for short periods of time. It always returned, though. Sometimes even worse than before. It made him feel sick, sometimes. So much so that he was seriously considering getting some sort of portable bathroom spell. It would make the experience a lot less messy, or so he would hope.

Of course, it wasn't as though he didn't get some use out of his eyes. After all, he saw the things no-one else could see. Essences, auras... souls.

_Worthless._

Huh? Oh. One of the things in his vision. Speaking to him in that manner. Again. Taunting him as usual. Poking and prodding, chipping away at him just like they had for the last few centuries. Clouding his sight, surrounding him with negativity. _Failure. Idiot. Sociopath. Why can't you see the world would be better off if you just drowned in the snow?_

"...Shut up..."

Rubbing his temples, the Ice King ignored the tears at the corners of his eyes. It was just warm, that was all. It was far too warm, and his eyes were watering from being so dehydrated and sore. Yep, in this kingdom of ice, it was far too warm for his old, fragile wizard eyes. He would just make himself a big glass of cold juice. That would make everything better. Humming an unfamiliar but comforting tune to himself, he made his way to the large, sparse kitchen. How he longed to wake up and see the princess of his dreams joining him in here, maybe even cooking with him. Maybe after a time he would no longer have to keep her in chains. Instead, all he was able to see were those horrible visions that gave him such headaches, those beasts that sniggered and derided.

_Easier on yourself... Cabinet is full... Empty it._

It was the heaviest he had felt in a long time, as though there was lead in his very veins. He simply could not let them beat him but... it was becoming harder and harder to resist their suggestions. And he was certain that they knew it. If only he knew another wizard. That is, if only he knew another wizard willing to help him. He had never had excellent control over his innate gifts, and he was always teased for it. Maybe another wizard could have helped his get rid of these monsters. Maybe they could have showed him how to keep them away. Instead he was doomed forever to have them whispering in his ear, telling his the truth. _Failure. Only one way out._

"...You're wrong... I'm useful, I'm powerful," he managed to choke out, his hand missing the fridge handle by a mere centimeter. All at once the sounds of laughter echoed all around. But there was no-one else but himself and the penguins. And these weren't penguin-like laughs.

Sobbing by now, he rushed into his bathroom and started the cold tap running. Splashing his puffy face with as much water as he could cup into his hands, he made believe that he hadn't been crying at all. No; he simply needed to cool off. It was this summer heat, the dreadful summer heat, and that was all. _Put your head under the water... Don't come back up._

Gazing into the mirror in front of him, he could swear he saw everyone he had ever known in the reflection, pointing. Laughing. Encouraging him to listen to the swirling visions, to the demons that made his life hell. Angrily, he aimed for his own nose and swung at the glass... only to have the mirror break and cut his hand. Yowling in pain, he stepped back, a splinter of glass wedged in his knuckle. The laughter must have been amplified by the icy bathroom tile.

Enough was enough. Grabbing a shard from the broken mirror, he held his eyelids apart with such determination that, should he have so much as sneezed, his eyeballs were sure to come rolling out. No, That wasn't enough. They had to go completely.

They had to be destroyed.

The first incision was the hardest. Calling out so loudly that he had no doubt it would waken everyone in the Land of Ooo, he jammed the shard into the socket of his right eye and twisted. Half of the creatures seemed to fade! More, he had to get rid of more! Slashing and twisting, pushing and pulling, screaming and shrieking, he refused to stop until they were all gone. _I have to make it stop... They have to leave me alone..._ He wasn't even quite sure how long he kept it up, although he reached a point during which the pain just... ended. Gone. Forever? He hoped so. The liquid pouring from him was surprisingly warm. It was in his beard, his tunic, all over his skin, but that was alright. He felt numb, contented. His hands were sticky and he dropped the piece of glass to the floor, where it clattered in a most amusing way. _Tinkle tinkle. _There wasn't time for playing with glass and other things that made such pretty noise. No, the old king was tired, so very tired. Exhausted. Contented and exhausted. Such a blissful feeling. He had to go sleep now. A nice, deep sleep, with new, exciting dreams.

Crawling with difficulty, he made it to the edge of his bed and no further. Closing his damaged eyelids over his sockets, he managed his first genuine smile. Maybe, just this once, he wouldn't have nightmares.


End file.
